


Audrey knows best

by Carola_dl



Category: American Gods (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-29 15:37:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11443893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carola_dl/pseuds/Carola_dl
Summary: Laura returns to her best friend's house to ask for another favor. This time, she brings a tall leprechaun with her.





	Audrey knows best

**Author's Note:**

> Hello,
> 
> I think Audrey is a great character and I was curious about her reaction to Laura and Sweeney's special "friendship." So I decided to write something about it! I hope you like it. Here it comes:

** Audrey knows best **

****

“Have you had any new hallucinations?”

The psychologist asks the question she has been asking her every week and Audrey shakes her head, in a mute “no”, while she fixes her eyes in the ugly butterfly-shaped pin the woman wears on her lapel.

Rhonda Machado may be an exceptional psychologist but she has a horrible fashion sense. She doesn’t ask another question and Audrey looks up, confused and impatient. She knows the game her psychologist is playing: Silence makes everyone uncomfortable and if Rhonda lets it fill the room for too long, Audrey will end up confessing her most disturbing thoughts. The problem is that it always works.

“Why a zombie? Why couldn’t I hallucinate her as she was before she died?” Audrey shakes her head. “Sewing her arm back was positively disgusting.”

“I don’t know. The mind is a complex mechanism. Do you want to venture a guess?”

Audrey shrugs. “Maybe I wanted to punish her… so I imagined her as a corpse. She was always too pretty outside, too ugly inside.” Even as she says it, she feels a little bit guilty, but she swallows it back.

“Why were you friends then, if she was too ugly inside?”

“I was naïve. I thought she was unreachable and cruel to men but genuine to me.” She laughs, letting the anger rein free. “I was so fucking stupid.” Audrey blinks, allows herself to be lost in her own thoughts and then, she rushes to apologize. “I am sorry for my vocabulary.”

“You can swear if it makes you feel better.”

It shouldn’t but it _fucking_ does. And only for a second, Audrey understands her dead former best friend – because Laura loved to use the crudest words to describe everything. She looked delicate outside but she had such a dirty mouth. Men loved that.

“I always envied the spell she had on men. They smiled at her as if she was the most enchanting princess they had ever met and they just felt the need to protect her at any cost. Shadow wasn’t an exception. Laura smiled back at them, she batted her eyelashes and seduced them in her own subtle way – but it was never real, you know, she liked the attention but she never really cared about them.” She shakes her head, feeling suddenly sad. “Shadow wasn’t an exception.” She repeats.

Audrey remembers when Zombie Laura told her Shadow was the light of her life, and now she wants to laugh hysterically again, but she contains herself.

When Audrey leaves her psychologist’s office, she doesn’t feel better – or _saner_ for that matter. She understands that Laura was only a hallucination, a product of her mind, but she still can remember the pungent smell and the sounds of her bowel movements. It was so disgusting that it’s difficult to accept it wasn’t real.

She decides to go buy food and some ingredients to make pies. She knows she still has plenty of apple pie in the fridge but making them has become her latest obsession. Once, before her life became a fucking Greek tragedy, she loved to decorate scrapbooks – now, the mere sight of colored paper makes her want to puke. Cooking is therapeutic; it saves her from her thoughts, her anger, and her tears.

Audrey only spends half an hour in the supermarket and she arrives home just before the sunset. When her car reaches the driveway, she’s surprised to find a heavily damaged ice truck parked in front of her house. Audrey grabs her grocery bag and steps out of the car without taking her eyes off the ice cream truck.

She almost shrieks when she recognizes Laura Moon, her particular zombie hallucination, in front of the wheel. She looks alive, or dead, or something in between – a little bit worse for wear than the last time she _hallucinated_ her. Audrey hugs her grocery bag against her chest and starts walking toward the main door with urgent steps.

“Audrey!” Laura calls after her, getting out of the truck.

“No, no, no, no. You’re not real!” She screams, not stopping for a second.

Audrey allows herself only a quick peek, to check if Laura is still there. _She is_ and she isn’t alone. A very tall redheaded man descends from the copilot seat and leans against the hood. He has scratches on his face and he looks quite intimidating. The man reminds her of the rough-looking lumberjacks and hunters from the covers of her romantic novels.

“What…?” Laura starts asking but Audrey slams the door in her face.

Safe inside her house, Audrey takes a deep breath to calm her fast-beating heart. She moves toward the kitchen's window and positions herself in a spot where she can still see them without being seen. She watches in silence how Laura returns to the car to grab a box of chocolates and then, she brusquely “hands” it to the tall man, hitting him in the stomach with it.

“Why do I have to bring the chocolates? She’s _your_ friend!”

“Because you smell… well, _not good_ , exactly. Just slightly less disgusting than me.” Laura answers. “I don’t want the chocolates to smell like expired meat.”

The man snorts, a prideful smile forming on his face.

Laura stops in front of her door. “Audrey, I’m very embarrassed I’m doing this again but… I need your help. I brought… I brought some peace offering.”

“I don’t think a box of chocolates will make her forget you died with her husband’s dick inside your mouth.” The man retorts and Audrey nods, agreeing with him, even when he can’t see her.

Laura sighs but doesn’t contradict him. She keeps speaking to the closed door. “We’re going to stay here, waiting, until you open this door. We aren’t going anywhere.”

Audrey shakes her head, furious. She opens the main door and looks at Laura with hate.

Laura smiles as if everything was fine with the world. “Hello, Audrey.”

“You’re dead… and rotting on my doormat.”

Laura simply nods. She seems unperturbed about this fact and Audrey considers it a clear sign that she’s just a product of her imagination.

The redhead turns lightly towards Laura. “I thought she already knew.”

“She does.” Laura looks back at Audrey. “ _You know_. Remember? We had a heart to heart, first in the bathroom, then in your car.”

“Yes. I mean… no.” Audrey shakes her head. “I talked to my psychologist and _we decided_ that you were a product of my imagination. It took weeks, _weeks_ , you hear me? But I finally came to terms with the fact that you weren’t real, that I just made you up because I was feeling guilty for hating you so much when you were dead and buried.”

Laura sighs and shakes her head. She walks into the house without asking for permission. A putrid smell hits Audrey when she passes in front of her so she steps back and covers her nose with her hand. Laura shows her a resigned and even self-deprecating smile.

“If I were only part of your imagination… would I smell so bad?”

“I assure you she’s real. She wouldn’t be such a pain in the ass if she weren’t.” The tall redhead man says.

Audrey blinks at him, _“And who are you?”_

“Mad Sweeney.” He says, offering her his hand to shake.

“Mad?” She asks while she shakes his hand.

He nods. “Mad as a hatter.” He says, showing a smile that seems too long and two white-teethed for his face.

Without bothering to ask permission, Laura turns the AC on with such strength that she almost tears the wheel off. “Cold is good to conserve cadavers, you know.” She explains. Audrey doesn’t know what to answer to that so she simply nods. Laura moves her hand over her collarbone, where the seams are opening and Audrey can see her bones. “Audrey, I know you still hate me and you’re in your right… but as I said, I need another favor.”

Audrey folds her arms and looks at her former best friend with apprehension. “Is it the car, again?” She holds back from commenting that Laura’s truck is a complete mess.

“No. We need to stay here for some days. It won’t be for long…” Laura shoos away a fly that’s circling over her head. “Well, _he_ needs a place to stay. I will come and go. I have some… errands to do.”

“What kind of trouble are you in? And I don’t want more lies, Laura, I’ve had enough of your secrets…”

Audrey observes how Laura and Mad Sweeney exchange stares. He nods, answering Laura’s mute question. Audrey looks at their wordless understanding with unconcealed surprise. In all the years she has known Laura, she has seen multiple guys trying to form an emotional connection with her but their stares and smiles were always one-sided. Laura smiled back at them but in the same way than an actress smiles at her co-lead, they were never genuine smiles.

“He betrayed a god so he needs to hide somewhere,” Laura explains as if she were explaining the plot of a new movie.

Audrey raises a brow. “A god?”

“A Nordic god, to be more precise,” Sweeney adds. “A one-eyed manipulative son of a bitch with a penchant for storms.”

Audrey shakes her head and looks at Laura with anger, “That’s the lie you want to feed me? You’re hiding from a _fucking god_?”

Laura extends her arms, showing the marks of her body. “Is that really so difficult to believe?”

Audrey bites her lip, trying to resist the temptation of believing her. Hallucinating her dead best friend is one thing, believing in the existence of a dangerous Nordic god is something else entirely.

Audrey looks at Mad Sweeney with an expression of mocking disbelief. “And what are you, then? _A genie?”_

“Do I look like a sodding genie?” He asks, deeply offended. “I am a leprechaun.”

She raises both brows, not even trying to hide her skepticism. “A leprechaun? Well, you don’t look like a leprechaun, either. Shouldn’t you be more…?” She gestures with her hand, indicating the size of a kid or a dwarf.

“Don’t even say it. Nobody likes stereotypes.” Sweeney says, with an almost threatening tone.

“So about that favor… what do you say?” Laura asks with a pleading tone. It’s an odd expression in her face, something Audrey hasn’t seen before.

Once again, Audrey bites her lip, meditating. She smiles with courtesy at Sweeney. “Do you mind if I talk with Laura in private?”

Sweeney gestures with his hands, expressing that he doesn’t mind. Audrey grabs her former best friend from the arm and pushes her towards her bedroom. Once they’re inside, she locks the door.

_“Who is he?”_

Laura blinks, confused. “We weren’t lying. He’s actually a leprechaun.”

“No. Who is he _to you?_ ”

“A travel companion. That’s all. He needs something I have, I need his guidance… more or less.”

Audrey looks at her with disbelief. She knew Laura. She knew Laura’s relationship with men – it was always a sordid, depressing and very basic needs affair.

“Is that how they call it nowadays?”

Laura raises both eyebrows, surprised as if the thought had never crossed her mind. “It’s just a platonic business arrangement and _I’m married.”_ Audrey looks at her with a face that clearly says: ‘are you fucking with me?’ Laura shakes her head and for a moment, she even looks embarrassed. “Well, I am dead and I am pretty sure my vagina isn’t in the right position anymore.”

“So how does that work? You being alive when your organs aren’t in the right position…”

“Long story short: I have a magic coin inside my belly that’s keeping me alive. Ginger Minge here wants that coin so he’s trying to find a solution. Meaning: Resurrection.” Laura stops to swallow a worm that has crept through her throat to her mouth, and continues. “He took me to the goddess Easter but she said she couldn’t resurrect me because I was killed by a god who calls himself Mr. Wednesday.”

“You met Easter? You mean… like Happy Easter? Bunnies and Chocolates?”

“Yes, she’s very nice but useless for what I need… I haven’t given up, though. I will fucking hunt God himself if that’s what it takes.”

Audrey frowns. “What the hell happened to you? When you were alive, you were the biggest atheist I knew and… now you’re looking for God? _We live and then we die and we rot._ Those were your exact words.”

“Well, I wasn’t exactly wrong,” Laura answers, caressing one of her scars with the tips of her fingers.

“You’re also hanging out with a damn leprechaun and running away from gods, and you tell me all this with the biggest conviction.”

“Yes, now I’m a great believer. _Whatever_. This world fucking sucks and gods aren’t much better… but I don’t have time to discuss religion, ok? So can he stay?”

Audrey looks at the closed door, remembering the strange leprechaun that’s still waiting in her living room. “Can I trust him?”

“He won’t hurt you,” Laura says.

Audrey notices that she didn’t exactly say she could trust him and, for a second, she considers throwing them out of her house but she doesn’t - because lately, her life has been an endless cycle of pity parties and boring days. She needs a distraction and she’s damn curious, too. It’s probably a horrible idea to offer refuge to a leprechaun who has infuriated some dangerous gods but the idea of knowing about that world and not being part of it is even more distressing. She’s tired of being in the dark, so she nods.

“Yes, you both can stay.”

Laura smiles, looking relieved. Audrey doesn’t return the smile – they aren’t friends again. She only nods her head, as if this was a business transaction, and moves to open the door.

Audrey steps out of the bedroom with a friendly smile and looks at Mad Sweeney, who is still waiting in the middle of her living room, holding the box of chocolates:

“Apple pie?” She asks.

+++

The three of them sit at the table, around the apple pie. Mad Sweeney is eating as if this was his last day on earth but Audrey can’t swallow even a bite because she can feel Laura’s strong scent in her taste buds. The silence is uncomfortable and, for a second, it reminds her of her therapy sessions.

“So… are you from Ireland, then?” Audrey asks, trying to be nice.

Mad Sweeney looks up, surprised that she’s addressing him. “There’s no one more Irish than me in this country, deary.”

“What about your parents? Did they immigrate here, too?”

This time, he seems really shocked by the question, “Nobody has ever asked me about my parents before.”

“Please, don’t get all emotional on us now,” Laura tells him, cruelly. Mad Sweeney gestures at her with his big hand, as if he was shooing away a fly.

“Actually, I haven’t thought of my parents in a long time… I was human once. A king, you know?”

Laura rolls her eyes but Audrey bends over the table, interested. “You mean a real king? Crown on your head…?”

“Aye, and a throne under my butt.”

Audrey feels tempted to tell him he doesn’t look like royalty but she doesn’t want to offend her guest.

“What happened to your kingdom?” She asks, instead.

“People killed it – when they stopped believing in it. That’s the worst way of killing someone, you know, forgetting them.”

Audrey nods, understanding. She may have never been a queen but she knows how it feels to be forgotten.

“I know what you mean. In some way, I was forgotten too.” She looks at Laura, who seems busy making a mess of her apple pie with her fork, without eating it. “My husband cheated on me with my best friend. The two people I loved the most forgot all about little me… they took me for granted, disrespected me and fucked each other when I wasn’t looking.” Furious now, Audrey looks at Laura. “Was the sex good, at least?”

Laura, looking resigned and guilty, shakes her head. “Not at all.” She says. “He was too insecure, especially with his tongue, always wanting to please.”

“Fuck you, Laura.” Audrey spits out.

Instead of feeling out of place, Mad Sweeney makes himself comfortable on the chair and looks at them as if they were the protagonists of a popular soap opera.

Audrey, however, feels embarrassed by her fit of anger and she looks at Mad Sweeney with mortification. “I am really sorry. That was very uncivilized of me.”

“Civilized is overrated,” Sweeney says.

“He’s more foul-mouthed than the two of us combined. Believe me.” Laura says but Audrey avoids looking at her. Laura rolls her eyes. “Come on, Audrey. What do you want me to say? I’m sorry?”

“Why did you do it?”

“My cat died and…”

“Okay, and my grandmother died five years ago and instead of having an affair, I spent my Christmas bonus on comfort food.”

“He was close, he was just there…” Laura tries to explain.

Audrey shakes her head. She looks up at Sweeney. “Boy, you had bad luck!” The leprechaun nods in agreement although Audrey hasn’t explained yet what she means. “You lost your opportunity to ride the whore. If she had been alive during your road trip, she would’ve jumped your bones… just because you were there.”

Mad Sweeney raises a brow; he seems more amused than uncomfortable.

“For God’s sake, Audrey…” Laura exclaims and she looks at Sweeney’s amused smile. “And you, drop that smile, I wouldn’t have fucked you even if you were the last penis on earth.”

“Are you sure? You have a weird obsession with my prick.” Sweeney pretends to be recalling the different moments. “First, I go to pee, there you come… wishing to take a peek, I’m sure. Then, you hold my balls in your hands…”

Audrey opens her eyes wide, surprised.

“Over his pants!” Laura specifies, for Audrey’s benefit. Then, she looks back at Sweeney. “And do I have to remind you I was aiming to hurt you and not give you pleasure?”

“Oh, darling… but there’s such a thin line between pain and pleasure.”

“Really? Next time, I will make sure to crack them.” Laura shakes her head and looks at Audrey. “As you see, he’s a disgusting piece of shit. I would never fuck him. Dead or Alive.”

Laura sends a heated stare toward Sweeney, challenging him to contradict her. However, it’s Audrey who talks:

“I would.” She says, shrugging.

“What?” Laura asks, confused.

“I would fuck him.” Audrey specifies. She sends a seductive smile towards Sweeney, who looks adorably surprised.

Laura shakes her head, uncomfortable, disgusted and for some reason, angry.

+++

Audrey shows her a small room, a lot smaller than the one where Sweeney is staying. It has a big window, though, which will help with her putrid smell. Laura touches the pillow with her fingers and tries not to remember all the times she stayed over for a girly sleepover with Audrey.

“It’s a good thing you have so many spare rooms,” Laura says, with an uncharacteristic shyness.

“Yes, we bought a big house because we wanted a big family. Good thing it never happened, though.” Audrey answers, with bitterness.

Laura nods, looking guilty again. “You should tell Mad Sweeney you were joking, you know. If you don’t want him to come to your room in the middle of the night…”

Audrey smiles, making Laura even more uncomfortable. “How old do you think he is?” Audrey asks. Laura immediately recognizes the tone of her voice. It’s the same she used during college when she asked Laura to find out if a boy she liked was an artist, a law student or a computer geek.

“He doesn’t look over forty.” Laura answers.

“Yes, but he’s a leprechaun… isn’t he like 200 years old or something? Like the vampires from the movies.”

“Maybe. Maybe older. I think he said once that he came to America in the 18th century.”

“Can you imagine how experienced he’s in bed?” Audrey asks, with a naughty and too curious smile.

Laura doesn’t answer, she just shakes her head and Audrey moves toward the door, getting ready to leave for her own bedroom. Laura doesn’t want the conversation to end on that note, though, so she calls her name. Audrey stops at the door, with her hand on the handle.

“He killed me. You know?” Laura says. “I thought my death was my fault but he was the one who caused the accident. _Divine intervention_ , because a god ordered him to do it.”

Audrey frowns. “Why are you helping him, then?”

“Well, unfortunately… I need him.”

Audrey raises both brows. It’s the first time that she hears Laura saying that she needs anyone. Laura recognizes the expression on Audrey’s face and she shakes her head.

“No. I don’t need him in the abstract sense of the word. I need him for a very specific reason: My resurrection. He’s the guy who knows everyone – every god, in this case, and where they live. He’s just a very convenient GPS... so I need him alive until we find a solution to my alive-inside-a-rotting-corpse situation. The problem is that he has the tendency of awakening the fury of very powerful gods.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I thought you should know who he really is… before you do something you can regret.”

“Oh. I see.” Audrey says. “I guess I was wrong.”

“Wrong about what?” Laura asks, confused.

“I thought you brought him as a peace offering: ‘Here you have this Sex God, have sex with him and be so grateful that you will forget that I fucked your husband.’ That would be your thought process – you’re messed up enough for that.”

“He’s not a Sex God.”

“Not literarily, maybe, but good enough for a mere mortal like me,” Audrey answers with a small smile. “In any way, it’s obvious you don’t want me to have sex with him.”

“I don’t care if you have sex with him.”

“No. It’s pretty obvious you don’t want me to… because you like him.”

“That’s absurd. Haven’t you heard us arguing before? He’s annoying as hell.”

“He killed you and you are still traveling with him. More than that, you’re protecting him from a god he pissed off… it’s the most selfless act I have seen you do in your whole life.”

“It’s not selfless if I have very selfish reasons to do it!”

“I thought you said you met Easter. I am sure she knows all the gods, too… which means you don’t really need Mad Sweeny and still, you don’t seem to want your revenge.” Audrey smiles, triumphant. “You like the leprechaun, Laura Moon.”

Laura shakes her head. “You’re wrong, but think whatever you want.” Laura puts a lock of her hair behind her ear and tries to talk with innocent indifference. “Does your very wrong assumption mean you’re not going to have sex with him?”

“What? No. As I already told you once: Fuck your feelings, Laura!” Audrey shows her an evil smile. “Sweet dreams.” She says, before exiting the room and closing the door.

Laura stays frozen on her spot for several seconds, trying to understand what she’s feeling and thinking. Death has made her more emotional – _which it’s so fucking ironic._ She doesn’t need to sleep anymore but she likes to pretend that she could if she wanted to – so she lies on her back on the bed and looks at the ceiling as if she could see the stars there.

She doesn’t care if Audrey and Mad Sweeney have sex – but for some odd reason, she does. She’s a possessive person, and even when she isn’t interested at all in Mad Sweeney - or that's what she tells herself - she still likes to think he’s hers somehow. _Her_ travel companion, _her_ ally, _her_ killer.

She pays attention to the silence, trying to hear steps or whispers outside her bedroom, but three hours go by without any noise. The fourth hour, however, breaks the quietness of the night. Outside, in the hallway, another door opens and Laura sits up on her bed with all her senses alert.

She immediately recognizes the leprechaun’s heavy steps and before she can realize what she’s doing, she’s opening her own door and looking at Sweeney with a very unfriendly expression. He jumps, surprised by her sudden presence, and takes some steps back.

“Fuck, Deadwife! You should wear a sleigh bell.”

“What? Are you scared of ghosts now?”

“Nah. The dead don’t scare me.”

“Where are you going?” Laura asks, her voice piercing and accusatory.

“Just going to the loo. Wanna come and take a look at my prick?”

Laura shakes her head, feeling more relieved than disgusted. She glances at Audrey’s closed door.

“I think I will take a rain check.”

“Maybe some day, Dead wife.” After these words, he starts heading towards the bathroom and Laura watches him walk away. She stands there until he enters the bathroom and closes the door behind him.

Laura glances at the closed door of Mad Sweeney’s bedroom and in a split second, she makes a decision.

+++

The first thing Mad Sweeney notices when he returns to his bedroom after taking a leak is Laura’s smell. It’s fucking impressive, in the worst way possible, that the thick walls that separate his bedroom from hers aren’t enough to protect him from her smell.

He sighs and doesn’t even bother to turn the light on. He’s so tired that he feels his bones aching and he just wants to lie on the bed and let his mind wander. He takes his shoes, his pants, and his shirt off; and throws them to the floor. It’s a natural ritual that he has done for years, but when he finally gets comfortable under the sheets, he feels his back touching a smooth-but-cold-as-ice _something._ A shiver shakes his whole body and he jumps out of bed, cursing under his breath.

“Can you stop screaming like a baby girl?” A familiar voice asks.

Mad Sweeney blinks, trying to adjust his eyes to the darkness. There, in front of him, lying on his bed is Laura Moon: As dead as always, as angry as ever. The leprechaun looks around the room, trying to figure out if he went to the wrong room but no – this is the guest room with the mustard yellow colored walls and the closet with the creaking door.

“What are you doing here?” He’s so tired he doesn’t even have the strength to insult her.

“Don’t jump to the wrong conclusions, Ginger Minge. I’m not interested in bumping uglies with you.”

“Well, then you’re the queen of the mixed signals, considering you’re in _my_ bed. ”

“I’m trying to save my friend from making a mistake. She’s grieving and emotional and she’s not thinking clearly.”

“I suppose I’m the mistake.” He says and Laura nods. “You always find new ways of insulting me. Well, fuck you… or better not, because I would rather not touch your moldy skin.”

She smiles, “You always find new ways to insult me.” She spits back at him. “What are you waiting for? Get into bed!”

Sweeney doesn’t move for several seconds, remembering the coldness of her inert body. He’s tempted to throw her out of the room with insults, curses and his picturesque vocabulary. He obeys her, instead. He’s not sure why - there’s simply something in her eyes that’s demanding and pleading at the same time and he doesn’t find the courage to disappoint her.

The bed is big and he tries to stay as far away from her as possible. The horrid smell reminds him of the boat that took him to the new world and he wonders, with bitterness, why every journey he starts includes companions with poor hygiene. It’s not Laura’s fault, he knows, but blaming her gives him a pathetic satisfaction.

“You’re going to fall from the bed if you keep moving farther,” Laura says, with a tight voice that indicates he has offended her. He doesn’t answer, but he creeps closer to her.

The silence dominates the next twenty minutes and, for a second, Sweeney thinks Laura has defeated her own death and has finally fallen asleep. Of course, it’s just wishful thinking. She clears her throat before talking:

“I don’t think this is a good hiding place for you. We will set off tomorrow to look for another.”

Sweeney doesn’t bother to ask her why. He thinks he knows. “Trying to protect your friend from the big bad leprechaun? And here I thought you were a crappy friend.”

“Well, better late than never.”

Laura is lying and she knows it. _She’s still an asshole, a lepre-cunt._ She doesn’t care for Audrey’s wishes or wants – not if they interfere with her own. She wants to be better but right now - as she lies in the darkness, listening to the silence and expecting Audrey to barge into the room with a nightie - she can only think: 'I can be better tomorrow. Tonight, I will be just myself.'

 

 

 


End file.
